


The Restricted Section

by The_lazy_eye



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, I'm not sorry, Library Sex, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:43:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_lazy_eye/pseuds/The_lazy_eye
Summary: There’s something thrilling about the idea of being caught red handed, doing something he knows he’s not supposed to be doing – and not something trivial like stealing from the cookie jar. Maybe that was thrilling when he was a young child and danger was only known in the face of his father attempting to be stern, but not for a grown man. No, it takes something bigger, something bolder to send sparks of thrill and danger down his spine.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 30
Kudos: 188
Collections: Shirbert smut





	The Restricted Section

There’s something thrilling about the idea of being caught red handed, doing something he knows he’s not supposed to be doing – and not something trivial like stealing from the cookie jar. Maybe that was thrilling when he was a young child and danger was only known in the face of his father attempting to be stern, but not for a grown man. No, it takes something bigger, something _bolder_ to send sparks of thrill and danger down his spine. 

The fun isn’t in being caught, though. It’s in the _idea_ of being caught. If someone were to catch them right now there’s no telling what kind of hell would break loose. They’d both be banned from the library, that’s for sure, and probably face some kind of disciplinary action from the school. Neither one of them can afford to fall into poor standing with their respective programs, so the risks they’re taking are pretty high. But that’s just the thing about this whole situation. 

The risk. 

_That’s_ what’s got Gilbert so hot under the collar. The mere idea that someone could walk around that corner any moment and find him pressed up against the stacks, fist in his mouth and pants pooled around his ankles as Anne kneels in front of him is enough to kickstart his heart into the next century. 

He’s really not even sure how they ended up here. It’s not like this was intentionally planned. Neither of them had dragged their feet across campus to the library in two feet of snow so they could get freaky in the 900s section. In this weather, they could have easily done that from the comfort of their own apartment. And besides, it’s almost finals. They really, _really_ should be back at their table pouring over their textbooks. 

Not here, in one of the most compromising positions Gilbert has ever been in in his entire life.

“Don’t pretend to be embarrassed,” Anne whispers, pressing a kiss to the top edge of his boxer briefs. The dark blue cotton compliments the vibrant red of her hair and it makes his cock twitch, pathetically eager at the sight of her on her knees for him. “We both know how much you’re enjoying this.”

“That’s not fair,” He grunts. His head makes a dull _thump_ as it knocks against the books behind him. “You’re enjoying this, too.”

“I’m enjoying this because you’re enjoying this,” She counters, flashing him a blazing look before hooking her fingers in the waistband and freeing him from the confines of his underwear. “And you’re enjoying this because you have an exhibitionist kink.”

“I do _not_.” He tries to sound stern. Really, he tries, but it’s difficult when Anne is kitten licking the underside of his cock and staring up at him with those bright grey eyes, little storm clouds that foreshadow exactly how powerful he knows she can be. 

“That’s funny because you’re already leaking.” She emphasizes her point by dragging her tongue up to the tip and pulling away, taking with her a thin strand of precum that keeps them connected. _Oh god._ She’s so hot he’s going to _die_. 

“It’s only an exhibitionist kink if people are actually watching. No one’s here to see us,” He says, voice straining with the effort of whispering and trying desperately to sound normal. He fails at both. 

“There’s a word for it, you know,” She hums. She’s taking her time with him, giving precise attention to every part of him without actually taking him in her mouth. She’s teasing him, challenging him to continue holding their conversation even when she knows he’s wearing thin. 

“What is it?” He asks, because Gilbert Blythe is never one to turn down a challenge. At his question, she switches from laving her tongue over him to spacing little, teasing kisses out between her words. 

“Agoraphilia.” _Kiss_. “It’s arousal from having sex in public places.” _Kiss_. “Turns out it’s pretty common.” _Kiss_. “A study in Canada shows that over eighty percent of people fantasize or engage in sex in inappropriate places.” 

The flat of her tongue presses against him and licks a long, firm stripe up from base to tip, causing a shudder to roll through Gilbert’s entire body. 

“Dear – _fuck_ , did you research this or something?”

He allows his right hand to drift down into her hair, grabbing a loose handful and twisting it into a messy ball on top of her head. He doesn’t pull on it or use it to hold her still; he just simply fists his hand in those deep, scarlet locks and grasps on for dear life. If he doesn’t hold onto something, _anything_ , he’s going to drift up into the heavens, never to be seen or heard from again. 

“Of course I did.”

She kisses the tip again before looking up and locking her eyes onto his. She’s like a vortex he can’t take his eyes off of her, caught so deep in her hypnotic spell that he couldn’t even dream of looking away. She’s got him right where she wants him. 

Gilbert watches as those pretty pink lips split slowly in half, taking him into her mouth centimeter by agonizing centimeter. 

God, it’s so good. She’s always so good. She knows his body like the back streets of a well-loved neighborhood, having walked those alleyways and sidewalks for so many years now. She’s had so much time to learn his nooks and crannies – all the buttons that set his buzzers off. She can, will, and does play him like a fiddle. 

She takes him to the base, hollowing out her cheeks and sucking gently before dragging slowly off of him, tightening her tongue to the roof of her mouth along the way. 

“Anne,” He pants, “That feels so good, oh my god. Anne – Anne, please.”

Her name is the beginning, middle, and end of every prayer he says at night. When he speaks it, it is with nothing other than complete and utter devotion. 

At the sound of his begging, she pulls off and rests back of her calves, staring up at him like some shrine to which he would place every sacrifice. Her sudden absence is a cold bucket of water to his senses, causing his vision to blur slightly before everything comes into a sharp focus. 

“Why?” He asks, dumb and breathless. There isn’t a single coherent thought running through his head. 

“Because,” Is the only explanation he gets. 

He watches her get up and dust the knees of her stockings off, carefully adjusting the sheer fabric to smooth out any and all wrinkles before shaking her hips so her plaid skirt falls across her thighs correctly. Then, she straightens her sweater out to make herself the picture perfect image of proper professionalism. Which is a hilarious juxtaposition next to Gilbert, whose dick is literally hanging out of his underwear, still shiny from her spit. His own shirt is twisted where he’s been writhing against the bookshelf and his hair is a tangled bird’s nest from his fingers desperately combing through it. 

Anne, even with her messy hair and red swollen lips looks nothing but pristine. Gilbert looks like a fucking lecher. 

She grabs him by the shoulders and manhandles him away from the bookshelf to take his place. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Anne says. The sparkle in her eyes leaves no room for arguments, not that he would ever want to argue with her. Not here, at least. Not like this. Not when he wants this more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. “I’m going to turn around and you’re going to fuck me.”

She’s already facing the books, hands braced on the shelf and forehead resting against the tattered spine of _Nova Scotia: A Pictorial Record._ If he had his wits about him, he’d make a mental note to grab that book on their way out because it looks like it’s filled with fascinating pictures of their little island. Anne would love it, that’s for sure. And he would love her loving it. 

Too bad his wits are most assuredly not about him. Any brain cells he had left have vacated his head along with most of the blood that should be helping is brain function. Everything has flown south for the winter, gathering in the lower half of his body as his brain turns to a mess of _Anne_ and _want_ and _now._

She throws an impatient glance over her shoulder and he croaks out, “Right here?”

“Right. Here.”

His eyes roll back in his head at the finality of her words. He’s never been this hard in his life. 

They’ve talked about this before – fantasies of Anne and Gilbert in a wide slew of inappropriate places where they would be pressed together and panting. They’ve talked about it casually, Gilbert bringing up his fantasy in the car one day just to test the waters. They’ve talked about it in bed, Anne pressed into the sheets while Gilbert whispered exceedingly filthy descriptions of what he’d like to do to her and where. They’ve even talked about it in depth, with Anne listening and providing her own input and Gilbert making sure to be clear and open about the things he wants. He was surprised to find Anne so on board in those moments, not just in the ways that would indicate a girlfriend willing to please her partner. It was always more than that. Anne didn’t just seem willing, she seemed genuinely and wholeheartedly _into it._ Which explains her barking orders at him like some kind of dominatrix. 

Not that he’s opposed to that. Quite the opposite actually. 

This isn’t their first rodeo, either. That happened tucked away in a thicket of trees a mile away from their university. The second time was in Diana Barry’s bathroom with all of their friends home during summer break. And, well, things have only escalated since then. 

It’s funny how far they’ve come together. Once they were shy lovers fumbling in a dimly lit room while they nervously learned the contours of the other’s body. Now they’re practically heathens as Gilbert smooths her skirt up over her lower back, yanks her stockings and underwear down, and presses the entire length of himself inside her in one stroke.

Anne hisses in delight, wiggling her hips to adjust and set the pace that Gilbert is too distracted to initiate. His mind is a blistering tempest of _oh god this feels so good someone help me_.

When the world finally comes back into focus, Gilbert pulls out slow enough to feel her squeeze around every inch of his cock. He rests with just the tip inside, smirking while Anne grips the bookshelf so hard her knuckles turn white. 

“Don’t tease me,” She warns, humor edging around the impatience and spoiling the stern façade she was putting up. 

“Oh, and why not?” He presses in another inch before withdrawing again, pulling a ragged whine out of Anne. “You’ve been teasing me this whole time.”

Either she’s too frustrated or too impatient to entertain him, because she immediately presses back against him and takes every inch inside. His hands reflexively grip her hips as she sets a rhythm, rotating her hips and fucking herself despite his inability to move. One of his hands immediately flies to his hair, tangling in his curls before dragging down the side of his face to press into his lips. It’s a vein attempt to keep himself quiet. 

With her bent over at the waist and her back arched up in a deep curve, he has a full view of where they’re connected and he can’t help but watch the way he disappears inside of her. _In and out_ , taking all of him so well. It should be illegal for something so lewd to be so fucking pretty. That pink little slit splitting open for him. Just for him. And so eagerly, too, as she continues to do most of the work. 

He can’t help the ragged, desperate moan that rips out of his chest when she gyrates her hips back in quick, little circles. 

Immediately, she stops.he sudden lack of friction coupled with the tight, wet warmth of her body has him instinctively bucking forward. 

“Mr. Blythe, this is an institute of learning and education. If you cannot keep quiet I will have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Shirley,” Gilbert manages. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not.”

Instead of letting her set the pace again, Gilbert doubles her speed from earlier. He’s careful to be quick but not too hard; the last thing they need is the sound of skin on skin echoing through the quiet space. 

Anne _whines_ and it’s music to his ears. Finally, he feels like he has the upper hand even though she’s meeting him in his frenzy. “What was that about being quiet?”

“Get fucked,” Anne laughs. Her eyes are closed, now, and her forehead rests against her arm, which cushions her against the cool metal that bookends the shelves.

“I already am,” He laughs with her, a deep chuckle that starts in the bottom of his chest and works its way out. It’s brief, though, because soon after he’s driving forward with even more force, watching as her hair sways back and forth in time with his thrusts. In a rare moment of clarity, he realizes that he wants to see all of her, he wants to watch the way her body moves and reacts to his. 

The fist that’s jammed in his mouth makes better use of itself when he grabs the hem of her sweater and forces it up as high as it will go, struggling to get it over her chest. She laughs through breathless moans at his efforts, not moving to help even once. As soon as he succeeds, he grabs the cup of her bra and yanks it down so when he leans back he has the perfect view of the way her breasts move in tandem with his thrusts. That, combined with his view from earlier, is enough to start that delicious burn low in the base of his belly. 

“Gilbert,” Anne sighs, breathy and high pitched in a way that indicates she’s one well aimed thrust away from the _loud in bed_ version of Anne he knows so well. He loves the sound of his name on her lips when they’re like this, as if he’s the only thing in the world that matters. It makes that possessive little switch in his heart flick on in all the best ways. “God, _yes_.”

Her words spur him on, “You’re taking it so well, Anne. So fucking well. All of me, anywhere I want. Isn’t that right? Down on your knees in the library, all for me. Up against the books we love so much. Do you love them more than me? I bet you don’t – not when I’m fucking you _so good_.”

Even though it’s taking every last drop of his wherewithal to remember to stay quiet, he can’t help the way their skin quietly echoes in the space around them. It’s so unbelievably hot and when he drives into her harder, it only gets louder. 

That is, until he hears the telltale sound of footstep that makes every ounce of blood in his body run cold. 

He stops fully sheathed inside of her and holds his breath, one hand gripping Anne’s hip so hard it’s sure to leave small, finger shaped bruises on the skin. 

“Why did you stop?” She hisses, eyes still clenched shut and jaw now clenching in equal measure. Her voice is dangerously low when she says, “I was getting close.”

“Someone’s over there.” It comes out panicked and whispered. He nods his head to the books even though she isn’t looking at him. She isn’t looking at anything as she takes in a deep breath that either grounds her back in the reality of the situation or calms her down from biting his head off for stopping. 

He has no clue which one it is because all she says in response is, “Oh?” 

“Yeah,” He tries again, hoping to get his point across. “We need to stop for a second. They’re going to hear us.”

Really, he should know better than to think she’d listen to the voice of reason. Anne is many things but rational is not always one of them. So while he’s panicking over the sounds of some poor, tired college student searching for the perfect book to use as a reference, Anne has her own cogs turning in the machine. 

She glances over her shoulder, makes eye contact with Gilbert, and pushes her hips back against his excruciatingly slow. He can see the twisted look of evil in her eyes as he struggles to stay quiet, lower lip caught so tightly between his teeth that he’s worried he might draw blood.

“I know you like this,” She teases, “There’s some part of you that wants to get caught, isn’t there? Come on, you know I’m right. Where's the fun if there isn’t a little risk?”

His hips jerk forward, cock twitching from where it’s inside of her. 

“That’s it, keep going. Maybe they’ll find us. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

He can’t help the way he begins to shallowly thrust, hardly moving an inch but still generating enough friction to fuel his fire. Somewhere close to them, a book hits the ground and someone lets out a frustrated noise. 

“I swear to god,” Anne growls, “Do not stop.”

How could he ever say no to her?

The pace is brutally slow and somehow blissfully better. Every drag of his cock inside of her sends hot coals blazing down his spine. He can feel every inch of himself in her in ways he can’t when they’re going fast and hard. Everything inside of him tells him to speed up, to chase this delicious friction until it burns bright and hot – it’s feral in that animalistic part of his brain that craves basal pleasure, but the rational human part knows there’s someone just on the other side of these shelves and if he goes any faster, there’s no telling what could happen to them.

Something warm and comforting floods into the center of his chest. He loves her. He loves her so god damn much he can’t even begin to put it into words. He loves her when she’s messy in the kitchen and sleeping on the couch; he loves her when she’s angry or crying or so happy she can’t help but infect people with her smile; he loves her when she’s wrong and he loves her when she’s right. 

He’d never be able to do something like this with another soul, because he doesn’t just love Anne – he _trusts her_. He trusts her with his whole entire being. He knows that if they get caught they’re going down together. She won’t abandon him, she won’t blame him, she won’t hold anything over his head. She won’t hurt him. Not on purpose. _Never_ on purpose. 

He’s not sure when he figured that out. Maybe somewhere between them finally working their shit out and getting together and their tenth fight where Gilbert sobbed in her old room, stormed out, and took an hour drive around the city. He doesn’t remember what they fought about, but he remembers that there was a moment where he wanted to pack up his stuff and run back to Avonlea, back to the comfort of his family orchard and the humdrum life he’s always known. He could have left her that night – hell, he almost _wanted to_. It was too hard and everything was too risky. His heart had seen enough turmoil to know the consequences of love. It would have been safer for him to throw in the bag and call it quits, live his life as a hermit doctor and be miserable but _safe_. At the time, being miserable by choice seemed so much better than to risk losing love.

Even back then, he knew if they ever broke up, that would be it for him. The connection he has with Anne is so deep and rooted in his veins that he’d never be able to sever it. 

So instead, he came back and found Anne sleeping at her desk, a thousand crumpled letters littering the floor by her trash can. She woke up, they talked, and they figured their shit out just like they always do. Love is dangerous and risky and hard, but always worth it. 

More than anything else in the entire world, _he trusts her_. 

There’s a phantom sting behind his eyes and he shuts them against the sensation, grounding himself back in the movement of their bodies. 

After what feels like an eternity, the person intruding on their tryst finds whatever they were looking for and retreats back into the main part of the library. Immediately, Anne demands _harder, Gil, faster._

And, God, he obliges. His pistons into her, caution thrown to the wind against the adrenaline that’s pumping through his body. _We were almost caught_ , he thinks wildly as he chases both of their pleasure _. We were almost caught._

Anne crests under him, back arching impossibly higher as her entire body tenses. Her face is muffled in the arm that’s shielding her from the books, allowing the skin of her elbow to swallow her cries. It lasts forever, that tensing and shuddering as she rides her orgasm out. What was the impossibly tight and wet feeling of her around him becomes impossibly wetter, impossibly tighter and his own hips stutter as his grip on control fades. 

Just as he’s about to pull out, Anne reaches back and fists her hand in the fabric of his shirt, keeping him pressed close. “Inside,” She moans and that does it for him. The entire world fades to a glorious, satisfying black as he empties inside of her over the course of one, two, three thrusts. 

A still kind of quiet falls over the pair as they catch their breath. No more muffled moans, no slick sounds of skin on skin, no panting or groaning despite best attempts to keep quiet. 

And, thankfully, no sounds of other people around. 

Gilbert sighs in both residual pleasure and relief as he pulls out of Anne and begins the process of tucking himself back inside his boxers. It’s sticky and messy, but it’s nothing compared to what Anne will have to deal with in the aftermath of her impromptu command so he sucks it up, adjusting himself a few times before shucking on his pants and helping Anne fix her outfit. 

“That was…” He starts before he trails off, realizing he has no words to describe the experience. He settles instead for a dopey grin, the lopsided kind that makes him look totally zonked out in pictures but is the only way to properly convey his emotions towards the love of his life. 

“Hot? Perfect? Sublime? Mind blowing?” Anne rattles off, winding her arms around Gilbert’s neck to press closer in a way that is both similarly and so differently intimate than what they just finished doing. 

He leans down and steals a quick kiss off her lips. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Anne steals one right back, keeping their unkept score of stolen affection even. “We should probably get back to our stuff. That final paper won’t write itself.”

She pulls away and starts back but Gilbert is quick to catch her arm, pulling her until she’s right back in his arms where she belongs. He peppers a quick series of kisses anywhere he can reach – her nose, her eyes, her forehead – before leaning down and nuzzling his face into the side of her neck. “Can’t we call it quits for tonight? There’s a Redbox movie and a pint of ice cream at home that has our names on it.”

“You’re a menace,” She groans, but he can hear her smile in the spaces of her words. 

“I love you, too,” He answers, kissing her neck sweetly before pulling back. “So much.”

That feeling from before is back, the one where his heart is so big and full it might pop open at the seams. His entire world rests in her mind and soul – home is not a city or a place but the very person in which you want to settle with. She is his person, both in passion and tranquility. They match each other in these ways, challenge each other in others, and hold each other all throughout. 

“Yeah, yeah,” She laughs and walks away, knowing he’ll trail behind her like a puppy. 

He does. 

“Hey,” He mutters, voice low as to avoid attention from anyone else around them. Anne looks at him for a second, smiling before collecting her books as he does the same. “How was that for you?”

“You want the truth?”

“Of course I want the truth,” He says, “I always want the truth from you, especially with stuff like this.”

Anne looks up again and they catch eyes. The world stops spinning for just a second, but in that little microcosm Gilbert finds himself deliriously happy to be able to call her his.

“I didn’t expect you to actually go for it,” Anne admits. She looks a little sheepish, that pretty pink blush returning to her face. Quickly, she circles around the table and comes up close to him, whispering in his ear, “But I’m really glad you did. I think that was the hottest sex we’ve ever had.”

Gilbert can’t help the grin that stretches across his face when he leans down to look at her. She’s wearing a matching smile and together the two of them look like twin goofballs living in their own little fantasy world. Maybe they are. He certainly wouldn’t mind. “Yeah?”

“I mean it was _exhilarating_. I knew we wouldn’t get caught but the way you nearly lost your marbles over it? Yeah, I’d be more than happy with a round two.”

“I would have to agree with you, Queen Anne.”

On the drive home she holds his hand. When he sneaks little sideways glances at her, she’s staring out the window so he tightens his grip as if to say, _I love you._

When she squeezes back, he hears her say, _I love you, too_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Vine voice “I can’t believe I’ve done this”
> 
> This started off as a role-play fic but after chatting it over with a friend they suggested it be a study session gone oh so right. And I cannot say I’m upset about that because I’m not super into role-play and I was struggling with it and now we have THIS beautiful fic that I am genuinely very happy with. I had so much fun writing it! There’s a high chance this is going to be a series if people like it so keep an eye out for that and please let me know what you think of this fic. 
> 
> Thank you to [xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx) and [lydiastxles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiastxles). They’re the ones who suggested role play but in a library and even though this is NOT role play, without them this fic would not exist. 
> 
> Another HUGE thank you to my beta and idea bounce board [writergirl8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writergirl8) who let me invade her DMs with ideas and screenshots and who meticulously picked through this fic and gave me great ideas, direction to take things, grammar edits, and most importantly endless support and love. I know we just met but you’re a rockstar and I’m so glad we stumbled into each other on this website. If anyone is looking for amazing fics to read, any of the 3 linked accounts are AMAZING and I highly rec all of them. They’re not only sweethearts, but incredibly talented sweethearts. 
> 
> Come chat with me on [Tumblr](http://thelazyeye.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thelazyeye24)! And please, if you’re so inclined, drop a comment and let me know what you thought! I literally live for feedback and validation.


End file.
